Chapter 1 - THE WORD THAT STOPPED THE TOAST
“Accident.”
The word kept repeating in my head while Julian Mercer lowered his champagne glass.
Nobody else noticed.
Sloane smiled beside him, one manicured hand resting over the fake curve beneath her silver dress.
Julian folded the napkin once.
Then twice.
His face revealed nothing.
That terrified me more than anger would have.
“To family,” he finally said.
Everyone raised their glasses.
Julian did not drink.
Neither did I.
Twenty minutes later, I was polishing silver in the service corridor when one of Julian’s security men appeared.
“Miss Callahan.”
My stomach dropped.
“Yes?”
“Mr. Mercer wants to speak with you.”
I followed him to a private office behind the ballroom.
Julian stood beside the window.
Sloane wasn’t there.
The napkin lay on the desk.
“Tell me exactly what you heard.”
I repeated everything.
The fake belly.
Dr. Keene.
The ultrasound scans.
The honeymoon.
The accident.
Julian listened without interrupting.
When I finished, he asked one question.
“Did she see you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Think carefully.”
“I stayed behind the linen cabinet.”
He nodded.
Then he reached for his phone.
“Mateo.”
A man answered immediately.
“Boss.”
“Find Dr. Samuel Keene.”
A pause.
“And quietly pull every medical record Sloane ever gave us.”
Julian ended the call.
“You believe me?”
“I believe details.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“But you gave me enough to investigate.”
Before I could answer, the office door opened.
Sloane stood there.
Smiling.
“Julian, everyone’s asking where you disappeared to.”
Then she saw me.
Her smile changed.
Only slightly.
“What is she doing here?”
Julian didn’t blink.
“She spilled coffee.”
I almost choked.
Sloane looked at the spotless carpet.
“Where?”
Julian answered calmly.
“On a contract.”
She stared at him.
Then at me.
For one horrible second, I thought she knew.
Instead she walked toward Julian and touched his arm.
“The baby’s tired.”
His face remained perfectly controlled.
“Then you should go home.”
Sloane smiled.
“I was hoping you’d come with me.”
“I have work.”
Something flashed in her eyes.
Disappointment?
Fear?
She kissed his cheek.
Then left.
Julian waited until the door clicked shut.
“Go nowhere alone tonight.”
I stared at him.
“Why?”
His phone buzzed.
Mateo had sent a photograph.
Julian opened it.
Dr. Samuel Keene was standing outside a private clinic.
Except the photograph had been taken six months earlier.
Underneath was a police report.
Dr. Keene had died three months ago.
Car accident.
Julian slowly looked up.
“Sloane has been claiming appointments with a dead doctor.”
My skin went cold.
Then another message arrived.
This one contained a bank transfer.
Two million dollars.
Sent from one of Julian’s private accounts.
Authorized yesterday.
Recipient:
BRYNN HOLLOWAY.
Sloane’s best friend.
Julian’s expression hardened.
I whispered:
“What does that mean?”
He turned the screen toward me.
The transfer memo contained only three words.
HONEYMOON SECURITY FAILURE.
Julian stared toward the ballroom.
“The accident isn’t planned for Sloane.”
May you like
His voice dropped.
“It’s planned for me.”
